


somewhere deep down, you know, I still believe

by boccardo_syllogism



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/M, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Spoilers for 5x17, more.... catharsis, well mostly hurt very little comfort, yes I'm tagging for both this is not a happy fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-23 15:39:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14335668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boccardo_syllogism/pseuds/boccardo_syllogism
Summary: Post 5x17.Phil tries to explain.





	somewhere deep down, you know, I still believe

He knows Melinda’s in her room when he knocks - the rhythmic tap of his initials in Morse code, the same signal they’ve used since Sausalito - but she doesn’t answer the door. Phil knocks again, a little louder.

“May?”

When he tries the handle, it turns. He stands there for a long moment, door still closed, arguing with himself. She does not want to see him right now; if she did, she’d have let him in. He doesn’t even know what he’s going to say. Besides, it’s an invasion of her privacy. It goes against every unspoken promise he made in the wake of Bahrain to respect her solitude, to trust the boundaries she set out for him, to let her choose her own pace. Phil has spent ten years sticking to those promises with the devotion of a man with very few truly beloved things in his life.

But he doesn’t have another ten years, does he?

Phil lets himself in.

Melinda is sitting on the edge of her bed, head in her hands, facing away from the door. She doesn’t move when the door shuts quietly behind him, but her shoulders are trembling slightly. It’s that more than anything that shocks him into speech.

“I needed you to be safe.” It almost seems to echo, but he pushes past the slightly hysterical stab of fear because if he doesn’t get it all out right now, he probably never will. “The moment that LMD aimed a gun at me and I realized you were missing and I hadn’t noticed, I just - I - it was so easy to make the deal, because it meant you would be safe. And then we got dumped in the future and you were hurt, and captured, and forced to fight for your life, and left for dead on the surface, and there was _nothing_ I could do.”

His voice breaks on the last word.

Phil swallows heavily and continues, “I’m not proud of it, but I’d go with Hale a thousand times if it guaranteed you got out of there. It’s selfish, but I didn’t know what else to do. I just need you to be _safe.”_ He shrugs, helpless, even though she can’t see him. “You’re my life. And I know it’s not enough, a-and I should have said it a long time ago, but I love you too.”

There’s no response. She doesn’t even turn around to look at him. Phil takes a long, controlled breath, trying to ignore the sick feeling in his stomach. In the rare moments he’d let himself imagine what it would be like to say that out loud, he’d always kind of thought he’d be able to see her face.

“Melinda?”

“Then act like it.” Her voice sounds like she’s swallowed glass. “I already wrote your epitaph once, Phil. I want more time before I have to do it again.”

Phil has to close his eyes at that. “I do too,” he says shakily. “I want all the time in the world with you.”

“Why the hell won’t you let us try to save you, then?” It’s low, venomous, and so, so tired; the pain in her voice is entirely his fault and that hurts worse than the rotting wound in his chest.

He fumbles desperately for how to explain. Nothing seems adequate - there are no words that express the fear and grief he’s been living with since that day. What finally comes out is “Because I’m terrified that if I don’t follow the terms of the deal, the Ghost Rider won’t either.”

“What?”

Phil sighs. “It’s a flaming vengeance demon that kills people. It also knows I took the deal because I was trying to protect the people I care about. I can’t drag you all down with me in a doomed attempt to cheat death a second time. I shouldn’t have survived the first time anyway.”

The noise Melinda makes is heart-wrenching - like she’s breaking there in front of him, like her world is ending, and more than anything he wants to reach for her and pull her into his arms until it stops. But he’s already pushed too much, gone too far, and so he stays rooted to the spot and folds his arms so tightly against his chest there are sure to be bruises from his prosthetic hand.

“I hate this,” he grates out. “I hate everything about this. I hate that I won’t be able to help Yoyo adjust to the reality of prosthetics, or make a joke about an ‘I quit’ that finally sticks when Mack retires, or meet any Fitz-Simmons children. I hate that I’ll never know if Daisy ever gets the peace she deserves after everything she’s been through.” The lump in his throat is choking him now, but he barrels on anyway, unable to stop. “I hate that you’ve been the love of both my lives and I never even had a _chance_ at a future with you. And you won’t even _look_ at - I - I’ll just... go.”

He turns for the door, focusing so hard on holding himself together until he’s somewhere else, anywhere else, that he doesn’t even notice Melinda’s moved until she seizes his arm and wrenches him around.

It’s the first time they’ve been face to face since she told him she loved him. It’s the first time she’s looked at him since he said it back. A small part of him feels like it should be different than all the other times they’ve faced each other, but it’s not - it’s Melinda, it’s… he always feels like this when she looks at him. Probably always will, however long that lasts.

A much louder part of him is aching at the tears pouring down her cheeks.

She lets go a second later, looking appalled. Well, Phil thinks numbly, if that’s how she wants it to be, he’ll respect that. They don’t live in the kind of world where love solves everything-

“You’re freezing!”

Oh. Phil blinks, taking stock of his body. Maybe he is. He’s usually cold these days - the rapidly worsening circulation is catching up to him - but the jacket is usually enough to keep him from shivering and no one questioned it. It doesn’t do much when you’ve recently been wandering around a snowy forest, but Deke and Talbot had needed a lot more attention when they’d made it back, so he’d just made do.

Before he can say anything, though, Melinda presses herself against his chest. The sudden blaze of heat hits like a brick wall. He hadn’t even really realized how cold he was until now - the gasp is totally involuntary. Strong arms come up to clutch his back and then there’s a face pressed into his neck, damp and warm and so gentle that Phil finally, _finally_ breaks down and cries.

**Author's Note:**

>  _"What was written in the omens that we couldn't bear to read_  
>  _I don't want to know, I don't want to know_  
>  _All I fear in my heart, couldn't let you see_  
>  _You don't want to know, you don't want to know_  
>  _Somewhere deep down, you know, I still believe_  
>  _That you'll always be, you'll always be the love of my life..."_  
>  Bear's Den, Roses On The Breeze
> 
> Find me on tumblr at preux-chevalier - the fic tag is "preux fic"


End file.
